Christophe, with the careful tone of an adult telling a kid not to pet the nice foaming-rabid pooch.

I'd kind of expected that kids who knew about the Real World wouldn't act like jock dipwads. Guess I was wrong.

I looked like a ghost. And I should know. I’ve seen a few.

I'm getting really tired of bleeding. Someone stop the world, I want to get off.

Lucas went even paler. “Then you’re on the track to suicide,” he whispered. “Take my advice, Valentine. Run. Run as fast as you can, for as long as you can. Steal whatever bit of life you can. You’re already dead.

He hadn't told me everything, but I'd left him for dead. I guess we were just about even...

But it's a whole lot easier to keep[secrets] when you've got someone else who knows breathing in the same room. Carrying them alone is like having a huge spiky weight digging into your shoulders and chest, a weight you can't shift even while you're sleeping.